September 18th, 2008

Fuck everything. That is Lizzy's sentiment for the day.

She called out from work and decided to wallow in her crippling misery once more. She had been improving over the past month or so, leaving the comfort of her apartment and doing normal, everyday things. Sadly, while doing said normal things she always felt like she was screaming at the top of her lungs on the inside, desperate to stop pretending that she was ok. She certainly was not ok. Far from it in fact, she just knew how to put on a good show. Now, while well on her way to drunkenness, and hopefully a relaxing, thoughtless blackout, Lizzy sits on the couch alternating between taking huge gulps of whiskey, crying, and staring at nothing at all, letting her horrific imagination take over and fuck with her in ways that would make the average person insane.

Four ridiculously long months since he's been gone and she's no better than the day Sam showed up on her doorstep with the worst, most crushing news she's ever been given. She tried, God damn it did she ever try, to live that life Dean wanted for her. She got a job, got out of hunting, even tried to go on a date a week ago. She cancelled last minute of course, saying she was sick. It wasn't a lie technically. An hour before getting picked up, she put on her outfit for the night, took one look at herself in the mirror, and then proceeded to sprint down the hallway of her apartment. She dove onto the bathroom floor in front of the toilet just in time to throw up at the thought of attempting to consider another man.

Nothing worked. Nothing at all. She's going to let him down and there's nothing she can do about it. His hold on her was way too powerful and she was no longer strong enough to overcome it. It hurt everyday just to live but what hurt even more than that was the thought that he'd be so fucking disappointed in her for being so weak, so unable to be all that he thought she could be.

She pulls the ear-buds out of her ears when she can just make out the sound of her cell ringing over 'You and Me'. She was in the middle of listening to her playlist entitled 'Dean' for the second time that day. Reaching out to check her phone, she peers at the screen, only assuming she will see either Bobby or Sam's names on it. She always heard from both of them on every one of either Dean or Lou's morose and heartbreaking anniversaries.

"What the fuck?" she mutters to herself when only a phone number appears. Not being familiar at all with the area code, she sighs and decides to answer it. If someone needed help maybe she can direct them to Sam because right now, she was a waste of life.

"Hello?" she says with a sad tone, barely audible to herself none-the-less the caller.

"L!"

It's his voice, a bit rougher than usual, but as clear as day. She hears it every night in her dreams so there is no mistaking that sound. Fright takes an icy, strangling grip on her throat and she hangs up immediately. She couldn't get her voice to work, having been paralyzed by shock. She keeps the phone clutched tightly in her hand while question the whole thing.

"What the fuck just happened?" she whispers to herself, her body shaking and a hand pressed to her forehead. Is she losing her shit finally, because if she was, she wouldn't be surprised in the least? Her heart pounds in her chest with the terrible moment.

She jumps when the phone in her iron-gripped fist suddenly rings again. Peeking at the screen with dread she registers that the same number is calling her. Jamming her finger hard onto one of the buttons, she ignores the call. It's not him. It can't be, she tried to assure herself. And whatever is fucking with her won't get the satisfaction of her reaction to it.

Phone still in hand, she takes a big swig from her Jameson bottle that was sitting at the foot of the couch. Shit, she should seriously call Sam. If she's about to get a one-way ticket to the loony bin, she'd at least like him to know with insane asylum to find her in.

The ringing starts up again and she squeezes her eyes shut, tears cresting over and falling down her cheeks as she does. She can't take it. Lizzy winds up and throws the phone with all the strength she had in her. It hits the wall and breaks into two pieces before clattering to the floor. She curls up in the corner of the couch and sobs as the experience really seeps in. She misses him so badly that the whole thing leaves her shaken, depressed, and absolutely terrified.

"Where the fuck are you, Louie?" she cries into her hands. "God, I need your help. I'm losing it."

She hung up immediately and after two more attempts, Dean realizes he's getting nowhere fast. He then recalls her house phone at her grandmother's place and tries that with what little hope he has left that she'll pick up and listen, even believe him. He just needs to hear her voice. That one word that he did hear, hello, wasn't nearly enough. He dials her other number with his dirt-caked index finger and waits impatiently as the line rings.

"Hello?" an unknown man's voice answer. His heart drops when he hears it, not prepared for a man to pick up her line. Who the fuck is that?

"Lizzy," he chokes out, his voice still raw from lack of use. "I need to talk to Lizzy."

"Ah, I think you have the wrong number."

"What?" He knows her numbers, both of them, by heart. He knows this is her house.

"Maybe you're trying to reach the girl who used to live here. She moved out months ago."

Moved? Why would she move? Where is she?

"Do you know where she's living now?"

"Oh, no, I'm sorry."

Dean hangs up the phone with frustration. Fuck, he can't reach her at all, has no idea where she is. This isn't good. Hopefully Sam will know. Dean drops more coins into the payphone and tries his brother's cell.

Sam had to take a walk to get out. Ruby's been annoying the shit out of him and today, well today was not a day in which he was willing to deal with anyone's annoying shit. He walks down the street of the small town they're currently in, the town he isn't really sure the name of, looking around without focusing on anything and his hands shoved in his jean pockets. Some demon was in the area and Ruby swears he knows where Lilith is. Already having gone up against her and failed miserably, Sam feels he's ready now, his confidence on high, and is itching for another chance at the evil bitch.

Four ridiculously long months since Dean's been gone and Sam is still a crumbling, aimless mess. He's stronger, sure, and a better hunter than he's ever been, but his emotional state was nowhere near stable, or even manageable. He's angry. Fucking furious. All the damn time too. Without Dean to keep him in check and at an even keel, it was impossible to put the things that made him mad in the proper perspective. It makes him wonder how Lizzy's been able to keep her own rage problem in line.

Sam takes a seat on a bench outside a small diner and pulls out his phone. He hasn't talked to Lizzy yet today and he knows he needs to. She's probably a disaster by now, shitfaced for sure and wallowing in her sadness. Sam presses speed dial number three and waits, noticing the small liquor store across the street. He decides to stop there once he's done talking to Lizzy. The line never rings. Instead he hears the automatic recording for her voicemail. Weird, he thinks. She never had her phone off, especially on bad days.

"Hey," Sam begins to leave her a message. "Uh, I just wanted to check on you. Maybe tell you where I was and see if you're ok today. I know it's hard and you probably don't want to talk, especially since your phone's off, but call me back if you need to. You know I'm here for you and the day hasn't been great for me either." Sam sighs loudly, hating admitting his emotional weakness to anyone, even Lizzy. "It would be good to hear your voice. Love ya', Lizzy."

He hangs up and worries a little more. Sam wanted to talk to her, hear her voice and take comfort in it as much as he could. Her not answering unnerves him completely and leaves him concerned like a father whose daughter is late for curfew. Something felt wrong, very wrong.

This is irony at its best, he thinks to himself as he stands to cross the street. He's getting worked up because Lizzy this one time didn't answer her phone. Sam would disappear for days, weeks, months on end without ever thinking about this side of it. He feels that nagging guilt creep back and for a split second he considers calling Bobby when he hears his phone ring. He answers it without looking, assuming he knows who's on the other end.

"Hey," he says with a smile, relieved that Lizzy's calling him back.

"Get your ass back here," Ruby demands. "I know where that demon is."

"Yeah…" Sam trails off, tone low and filled with disappointment. He hangs up and sighs loudly. Wrong woman. He hopes Lizzy is ok and getting through the day well enough as he drags his tired and drained ass back to the motel. Maybe exorcizing a demon will make him feel better and if not, he knows where he can go to purchase the booze to make the day bearable… or disappear into blackness at least.

"I'm not a demon either, you know," Dean explains with slight irritation as the holy water beads off of his face.

"Sorry," Bobby apologizes with a shrug. "Can't be too careful."

"It's fine," Dean brushes off while picking up a towel he finds on the table. Bobby did the right thing in testing him, making sure he's really Dean.

"This don't make a lick of sense," Bobby tells Dean as he walks into the study, the recently risen man following close behind as he towels off with the dish rag.

"Yeah, you're preaching to the choir," Dean responds, just as, if not more, freaked out than the older hunter by his own walking, talking presence on Earth.

"Dean, your chest was ribbons, your insides were slop, and you've been buried for four months. Even if you could slip outta hell and back inta yer meat suit…"

"I know, I should look like a Thriller video reject"

"What do you remember?" Bobby questions.

"Not much," Dean begins. "I remember I was a hellhound's chew toy and then lights out. Then I come to six feet under and that's it." Lying is way easier than explaining to Bobby just how much he does remember… which is all of it. Every horrid, gory detail and all the awful, despicable things he's done. He doesn't know how long he'll be able to hold onto all the horror, but he'll try for as long as he can to keep it to himself. This is not something you unleash on others.

Bobby contemplates what he considers is good news as he takes a seat behind his desk.

"Sam's number is not working. He's a, he's not…" Dean can't finish the question, the words too terrifying to speak.

"He's alive as far as I know," Bobby tells him. He hasn't heard from Lizzy about Sam in a while so who knows honestly.

"Good," Dean responds before realizing what Bobby's said. "Wait, what do you mean as far as you know?"

"I haven't talked to him for months."

"You're kidding? You just let him go off by himself?" Dean's surprised to hear that Bobby hasn't kept on Sam's ass. He always assumed that once he was gone Bobby would take over for him.

"He was dead set on it," Bobby tries to explain, knowing it isn't a good enough answer for Dean.

"Bobby, you should have been looking after him."

"I tried. The last months haven't been exactly easy you know, for any of us. First Lou, then you… damn it, Dean. We had to bury you. Sam had to tell Lizzy you were gone."

Dean's face wrinkles and he shakes his head with the thought. He feels bad that Sam had to do that and knows how hard it must have been. There's no way Lizzy took that news well. It's then that another question that had been lingering on his mind is brought up. "Why did you bury me, anyway?

"I wanted you salted and burned, usual drill, but Sam wouldn't have it."

"Well, I'm glad he won that one."

"He said you'd need a body when he got you back home somehow. That's 'bout all he said."

"What do you mean?"

"He was quiet, real quiet. Soon as you were in the ground he drove to Lizzy's to tell her in person before he just took off. Wouldn't return any of my calls. I tried to find him but didn't want to be found. Somehow Lizzy kept in touch with him, got him to at least answer her calls every great now and then."

"She did?" The corners of Dean's mouth turn slightly up with the news. He's glad someone could get through to Sam, and really glad it was her. She was always extremely understanding, something he knows Sam must have needed these past few months.

"Yeah. Don't know how, though. He really wanted to vanish."

"Ah, damn it Sammy," Dean complains as he begins putting the puzzle together.

"What?"

"Oh, he got me home ok, but whatever he did it is bad mojo."

"What makes you so sure?"

"You shoulda seen the grave site," Dean begins explaining. "It was like a nuke went off. Then there was this force, this presence, I don't know but it, it blew past me at a Phillip joint." Dean pauses as he get gets ready to show Bobby the frightening leftovers. "And then this," he says while rolling up his sleeve to reveal the handprint burnt into the skin over his shoulder.

"What in the hell?" Bobby asks while walking closer, inspecting the shocking disfigurement.

"It's like a demon yanked me out, or rode me out."

"But why?"

"To hold up their end of the bargain," Dean tells him, sure he's figured out what must have happened.

"You think Sam made a deal?"

"It's what I would have done." He rolls down his sleeve and looks over to Bobby once more. "Where is she, Bobby? She answered her cell when I called but hung right up, just like you did. Then she didn't pick up after that."

"Lizzy's still in Massachusetts," Bobby explains. "And if anyone knows where Sasquatch is, it's her. Like I said, she's the only one who's gotten through that thick skull of his."

"Good," Dean breathes out a sigh at the information and smiles a little. He takes comfort in the fact that she tried to take both Dean and Lou's place as much as she could. His heart swells and the need to get to her grows even stronger. "Call her. She won't talk to me for obvious reasons. Ask her where Sam is." He still needs to get to Sam first. Lizzy is strong and he has faith that she'll be alright. But Sam, not so much. "Just… don't tell her I'm here, ok? Not yet."

"Yeah," Bobby agrees as he dials her number.

Dean looks around the house quickly while waiting for Lizzy to answer. He picks up one of the many empty whiskey bottles. "Hey, Bobby? What's the deal with the liquor store? You're parents out of town or something?"

"Like I said, last few months ain't been all that easy," Bobby explains sadly as the call goes straight to voicemail. "Shit."

"What?"

"Voicemail. Didn't even ring."

"Try Sam," Dean demands in an even tone.

"He won't answer," Bobby warns, having done this drill too many times to think the outcome would be different.

"Try him anyways," Dean booms. "You have to try. Please."

Bobby dials the number and, just like always, he eventually just gets Sam's voicemail. Bobby hangs up without leaving a message, knowing it wouldn't do any good, and shakes his head no.

"Alright, then pack up some shit and let's go," Dean demands while walking towards the front door.

"Dean, take some time here for a second. Get in a shower, eat something, or maybe grab a good night's sleep." Bobby doesn't need this kid running around just yet. Who knows what he's seen, been through, any of it.

"No," Dean refuses. "I need to get to Lizzy first. Then, I'll deal with the rest."

Seeing the look in Dean's eyes and the tone in his voice, Bobby knows there's no reasoning with him at this moment. He's ready to go. Bobby doesn't blame him in the least, either. He knows the love Dean has for that girl and there's nothing that can stop him from getting to her. Apparently not even hell.

"Alright, give me a couple a' minutes," Bobby asks of his son as he trudges upstairs to put some things together for the trip. It'll take a full day easy to get there driving straight through and Dean's going to need some clothes too. And food and water, he assumes. He packs everything up and, even though the whole thing is disturbing to say the least, Bobby smiles to himself. Sure, Sam probably sold his soul for his brother, or something huge, really fucking huge, is going on to raise Dean like this, but the silver lining is still there. His son is back. He isn't being tormented every day or slowly being turned into something Bobby himself would have to someday kill. He's back and at the moment, that's all that matters.